


Made of Dots and Lines

by MeMyselfandAI



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: A.I. friends abound, Artificial Intelligence, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Not Really Character Death, Sci-Fi AU, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeMyselfandAI/pseuds/MeMyselfandAI
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A futuristic bunker, buried deep underground. An unknown monster stalks the hallways. There are secrets in every room, incredible advancements in science, put together by some of the world's sharpest minds. But Josh isn't looking for any of that. </p>
<p>He's looking for a way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: Awake

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, first of all, thank you! I've always been a sucker for sci-fi AUs, little A.I. friends, and survival horror stories in general. If that's up your alley, you're in luck! If not, I don't know what to tell you. 
> 
> It's best to approach this assuming the kids are a little older. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Joshua Washington opened his eyes and found himself staring at the bleach-white tiles of a Med Bay room. 

Not an odd sight, but usually he didn’t feel like he had been run-over by a bus. Groggily, he pushed himself into a sitting position, only to have pain erupt across his torso. He flopped back down with a hiss, clutching at his gut. The familiar action brought back memories— something slick, something red, cradled in his arms, against his stomach. He cautiously sat up again, hands pulling up the hem of his shirt to assess the damage. 

The gashes were _huge_. Running from his groin to his ribs, Josh couldn’t help but wonder how he was still alive. The scars themselves were eerily clean—his skin hadn’t been torn so much as…separated. It was hard to remember what had happened. Thinking back, he had been with other people, ushering them through the corridors with other security officers. Then he turned the corner and ran right into a walking nightmare. 

It had been massive, filling the space, and had razor sharp… something. Claws? His last clear thought was holding his intestines in his hands, someone screaming, and…nothing. 

Whoever had patched him up was a miracle worker. 

Josh ran his fingers down the taught, pink skin that ran across his middle, feeling the strong cords of medical thread that had been used to sew him back together. Some of the sutures had already fallen out, body in full recuperation. Even with the aid of healing gels—he _reeked_ of that artificial mint fragrance the medheads loved to put in their concoctions—injuries like that took time to heal. Just how long had he been unconscious? 

The longer he stewed in his thoughts, the more Josh realized something was amiss. In past visits, whether it was complications with his meds or something that happened on the job, med staff were usually in to see him by now. No equipment carts rumbling through the hallway, no soft ping of opening doors—everything was silent but the soft hum of the exam room’s electrical systems. Even then, Josh realized, most of the light in the room was coming from the single diagnostics monitor by the doorway. No people, no power…what was going on? 

Feeling a looming sense of dread, Josh turned his attention to his surroundings. A standard exam room—occupied only by a cot, the computer, and a stool; there wasn’t anything that provided anything in the way of immediate answers. 

But there was something folded on the stool in front of the computer monitor. 

Josh could make out the familiar shape of a security officer’s riot helmet, not unlike the one he was assigned as part of his uniform. Sleek, dark, and imposing, it rested on a dark lump of fabric that had neatly folded and placed on the stool. Curiosity piqued, Josh rotated his body to the edge of the make-shift bed, delicately lowering his feet until they touched the floor. Steadying his resolve, he eased his body up and away from the bed. The monitor was only several paces away, but Josh could already feel his legs aching in protest. 

Slowly shuffling forward, his body began adjusting to the idea of moving again. By the time Josh reached the computer, his legs no longer felt like jelly. They just tingled, like they had fallen asleep after being sat on for too long. Using the console to brace himself, Josh turned his attention to the contents atop the stool. 

The helmet was plugged into the computer: charging, upgrading, something else? Josh couldn’t be sure. He lifted it up so he could get at the material underneath. As he suspected, it was the protective bodysuit that security personal were issued for emergency situations. The suit was deceptively light, only a few solid armor plates covered particularly vulnerable areas of the body. Its actual strength came from the carbon weave of the material. Maybe not strong enough to withstand a monster with razor-sharp knife claws, but it sure as hell was better than the scrubs he was wearing. He could only assume it had been left here for him, if he was going by the text on the monitor that insisted _“Put me on!”_.

Josh shimmied into the armor with a little difficultly; while his limbs _were_ getting stronger, it still felt like he had run a marathon, sore and exhausted. The suit was also clearly not his: tight in many places, loose in a few. As long he could run if he had to, Josh would take the awkward chaffing. Picking up the helmet again, it definitely wasn’t his either. On the left side, by the hinge of the visor, someone had spray-painted on a blue butterfly decal. It wouldn’t have passed regulations; it must have been added after shit hit the fan. 

Josh unplugged the helmet and slipped it on, the systems whirring to life in his ears. Vitals and other bits of information began to pop on the translucent material, adjusting to his bio-patterns. The synch-up was good, a soft chime informed him on the visor’s display. So long as the fit was close, the suit would power itself off Josh’s own expended energy. With everything coming back positive, Josh opened up his communications channel. If someone was out there, he was going to find them. 

“Hello? This is security officer WA9487, calling on all channels. Anyone out there?” 

Soft white noise droned in the speakers by his ears. Josh felt his heart start to sink. He tried again, heart pounding in his chest. 

“Anyone one out there? This is security officer—“ 

A voice cut through the static. The com blared to life, a familiar voice soothing the rising sense of panic he felt. 

"--n you hea-- wait hold--n, now? Can you hear me? Hey!"

What were the odds? Of all the bodies stationed in this shithole of a facility, he stumbled across a familiar one. 

Well, one of them.

"Chris, bro, is that you...?"

The com beeped again, the channel steady and clear. "JOSH! Is that you?? My man, it is so good to hear your voice! I thought you were dead!" 

Josh gingerly touched his stomach, unable to feel the sutures through the dense material of the bodysuit. "You know me, man, one foot in the grave at all times. How long was I out for? What the hell happened to everyone?" 

The tinny echo of the speakers did little to mask the disappointment in his friend’s voice. "The escape route was a bust. Most everyone... well, a lot of people didn't make it. I thought _you_ wouldn't make it. We need to get you someplace safe though, okay?"

Josh made a sound of protest, questions running through his brain, but Chris didn't give him the chance.

"Josh, I know this is really confusing and you probably have a million questions, but you REALLY need to get going, bro. Head to security dispatch, there's still a few people holding out there."

Well, that was decidedly bleak. Josh gave the room one last look-over, in case there was anything to take with him. "Is that where you're holding out?"

"Uh, well, yeah. There aren't really many other places you could be right now, you know?"

Josh didn't really know, but he grunted an affirmative. The room turned up negative on supplies, but at least he had the gear. Small combat knives stored in the attached utility belt, pre-programmed override codes in the small displays on his wrists—if those... THINGS, those monsters were still in the compound, it was better to have that than nothing at all. He tried the door, but was met with a rapidly blinking red light.

"Chris, the door's locked, I can't get ou--"

"Passcode's 0202, try that. I sealed the door after we put you in there so nothing could get in. And it worked—no need to thank me!"

Josh huffed in amusement as he punched numbers into the keypad. "You could've just said that in the first place."

“Yeah, sorry, I just—oh man… I’m just really glad you made it.”

Josh could hear the nervous energy in his friend’s voice, could imagine him wringing his hands. Despite the atmosphere and everything that he had gone through up to this point, he could already feel a glimmer of hope taking shape in his mind. Just knowing he wasn’t the last man standing made the situation something he could tackle. Besides, security dispatch wasn’t that far away. Just go through a couple doors, maybe an elevator ride, and he would be safe. 

Determined, Josh took a deep breath as the door unlocked and slid open, preparing himself for what was on the other side.


	2. Alert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Featuring lots of that good old Character-Death-Not-Character-Death.

The door slid open to reveal a dark, cluttered hallway. The air was thick and heavy with something pungent and musky, like a humid swamp. Underneath it all, there was an undeniable stench of rot, of decay. 

Of death. 

It came from the corpse of a young woman, crumpled in front of the doorframe: body stark and jagged in the fluorescent light that bled from the exam room. Josh felt nauseated looking at her, bent backwards over herself. She must have been propped against the door, dislodged when it slid open.

"Jesus, there's a body out here..."

"Yeah?"

"I think she was trying to get inside." Josh nudged the body with his foot. He caught a glimpse of the pink band on the ID badge clipped to the coat. Medical personal, then. 

Chris' response was soft. "Like I said, nothing gets in. Who was it?"

"I dunno..." Josh mumbled, nervously shifting from foot to foot. "She doesn't...she--her head's gone..."

"Oh god... uh, see if she’s still got a badge. It might open some of the doors in this wing?"

Grimacing, Josh plucked the badge from the corpse, avoiding the protruding fragments of bone that had been forced through her clothes. "Shit, man, it's Ashley."

Chris made a strangled sound as if the world had collapsed out from under him. "No, no, no, that can’t be—she was with people, she was safe! Why did she...she was supposed to be safe!"

Josh didn't know what to say. He had only known Ashley from therapy sessions and group meetings for his sister’s—Beth’s—project, _Cypress Cradle_. But Chris…the two had been close; when Chris wasn't spending time with him, it had been with the sweet redhead in the psych roster. Ashley was thoughtful, sharp-witted, and carried a spark of mischief that only those close to her got to witness. People had always speculated on the nature of their relationship, but as far as Josh had known, nothing romantic had come of it. Maybe it was regret that was the root of Chris’ mourning. 

"Chris-"

"Is there anyone else there? Do you see anyone else?”

Josh was taken aback at the intensity in Chris’ words. His friend’s voice still sounded shaky, but there was resolve in the question. Chris was on to something. 

“No, just her.” 

Chris exhaled, a long drawn-out sound. “Okay. Okay. Mike and Em are probably still alive. They’re tough bastards, they wouldn’t go down easy.”

Josh could believe it—he had worked in passing with both Mike and Emily, then had befriended them after their enrollment in Beth’s project. Michael could be arrogant, and still acted like a frat boy sometimes, but he genuinely wanted to help people. Was strong as hell, too. Emily could be snide, and was hard to get along with, but her loyalty ran deep and her mind was like a steel trap. She was one of the top strategists in the security crew, no matter how many people hated admitting it. If anyone could survive a nightmare scenario, it would be the two of them.

“Think I should go look for them…?”

“No, we gotta get you someplace safe, bro. If you stay here, you’ll end up like…” Chris swallowed, reconsidering his words. “Just keep moving.”

Josh could feel his friend’s discomfort and didn’t press the matter. “Alright. I’m heading to Med Bay’s main elevator. I’ll let you know when I’m close.”

Falling silent, Josh turned on his heel and plunged into the darkness of the silent hallway. 

 

Josh could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he crept thought the ravaged environment. Every corner he turned, his helmet’s flashlight would reveal another body, smears of offal, or desperate graffiti. 

_You will fucking die here_ , deep red letters warned as he shimmied his way through a doorframe blocked with rubble, out into the main hub. 

The Med Bay was certainly not the largest section of the facility but Josh still felt dwarfed by the space. As a frequent visitor, he had become familiar with the layout and the staff unique to this location. 

But now, everything was in shambles. Stretchers over-turned, machinery shredded, pools of dark red...it looked like something out of a horror movie. Still on-edge, Josh delicately navigated his way to the main entrance, stealth ruling out over speed. While his encounter with that _thing_ had been brief, it had almost cost him his life. It would be stupid to draw any sort of attention to himself. He took note of the signs he passed—“Operating”, “Exam”, “Receiving”—then finally, past the patient registry kiosk, positioned above the elevator to the rest of the facility: “ _The Grove_.” 

Josh eyed the sleek, double-doors: too thick to pry open, no power to activate the call panels. Even with the security override codes programmed into his suit, he couldn’t do much without electricity. He opened his comm channel, frustrated. 

"Chris, man, if you can hear me, the main lift is shut down, I can't-"

"Josh, is that you?"

Josh felt his whole body jolt in surprise, whirling wildly around to find the source of the voice. The patient registration console was whirring softly, parts of the computer blinking off and on. A small bloom of light appeared in the center of the projection disk attacked to the side of the machine, before forming into a small figure. No taller than a pencil, her body glowed in the same hue of pink as the med badge stripes. She flipped one of her braids over her shoulder and smoothed her hands down the front of her uniform scrubs. Cocking her hip, she spoke again. "I'd know that voice anywhere."

"Jessica? You're still here? How did-wait, Chris, hold up. I'm _fine_ : Jess is still in the patient database!" He took a step forward, body still tense from the unexpected encounter.

"Wait, Jess is there? Fuck _yes_ , that's awesome!"

"Are you talking to Chris? I'm not even surprised. You two are joined at the hip," Jess jabbed playfully, crossing her arms. "But seriously, I'm glad to see you up and moving. Not many people are."

"You and me both, blondie. Is anyone else still left in medical?"

Jess made a sweeping gesture with her arms. She smiled ruefully. "You're looking at her. Well, in a manner of speaking."

Josh had always felt a little bad for Jess, not that he'd ever tell her to her face. He hadn't known her before living in _The Grove_ , only after his enrollment in Beth’s project, like Ashley, Em, and Mike. Jess had been one of the first volunteers to go through phase one, Installation. And then, due to a tunnel collapse in Mining, the first of the group to reach the second phase: Integration. After Jess' death, the hardware in her brain was harvested and rebooted. Straight, textbook results. 

Sorta. 

The goal of _Cypress Cradle_ had been to record a person's memories, their very consciousness- something to reference if information would have been otherwise lost. Instead, they ended up with a perfectly self-aware artificial intelligence that spoke and acted like Jess. There were some exceptions: lack of a physical body, confinement to electrical systems, being the obvious ones. But there were also times when she seemed...off. Jess had always been a little irreverent to begin with, but now, some of her quips were a little too close to home, a little too mean. Beth had certainly noticed and was curious, but she never investigated it. She claimed Jess had always been like that with the people close to her. Josh suspected his sister was just relieved to have her friend back, and didn't want to give anyone a reason to find fault with the A.I.—or to ask too many questions about the morality of when she was doing. 

Seeing Jess here, a survivor, surrounded by all the gore and ruin, Josh wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe she hadn't gotten the short end of the stick. Maybe she had been the lucky one all along.

"Have you been here by yourself this whole time, Jess?" Josh kept his voice low.

"Last person I saw walking around was about a week ago. Bodies, I see every day. I figure it's only a matter of time before that monster shag rugs busts up this terminal and kills me. Er, again. Or whatever."

"Monster-? Never mind. Can't you, I dunno, jump into other consoles? Like the other A.I.s?"

Jess laughed dryly. "I _could_ , until the network went down. Not like I could leave medical anyways. Most everything here's on emergency power or is shut down, unless one of us are still running it. That's why this guy's still kicking." She blew a kiss at the console serving as her temporary home. 

The external speakers on Josh’s helmet crackled to life, Chris’ voice transmitting though. 

“Hey Josh, Jess, we need to speed things up. That thing could be anywhere and we’re really out in the open.” 

“He’s right. What do you think, Jess? Wanna tag along?”

Jess shifted from one foot to the other, looking nervous. It was a surprisingly human gesture, coming from bits of data and projected light. 

“No offense, but if you pull me and we run into that monster, we’re both screwed. Like, I don’t want to spend the rest of my days re-reading the same patient files, but I don’t want to get scrapped either.” 

Josh _almost_ felt insulted. “Hey, it’s not like I’m planning on dying. Besides, I’m heading to Security Dispatch. Chris is there, other people too. If I plug you in there, at least you’ll have more room to stretch.” 

He kneeled down, closer to her eye level. He could see how reluctant she felt, how uncomfortable. But he also knew there was safety in numbers, even if it meant _literal_ digital numbers. 

“Come on, Jess. Do you _really_ want to leave Chris and I alone without adult supervision?” he staged whispered, ignoring Chris’ indignant sputtering. 

Jess’ laugh sounded forced, but her shift in posture was noticeable, more confident. “You tool. Alright, yank me—panel’s on the back of the kiosk.” 

Still kneeling, Josh shuffled around to the back of the machine, popping out a small combat knife from the suit’s utility belt. It took a couple tries in the dim lighting, but he was eventually able to unscrew the maintenance panel. The row of the closest interface ports housed an A.I. card, blinking lights signaling an active connection. He peeked around at Jess.

“You ready?”

She responded with a resigned thumbs-up. That was the only sign he needed. 

Carefully, Josh pulled the card from its housing and watched as all the blinking dots faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I've had a good chunk of free-time lately, so chapter updates shouldn't be too far apart. Not EXACTLY, regular, but hopefully close to it)


	3. Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beware of things that go bump in the dark.

By itself, the A.I. card was sturdy, but small; it revealed nothing about the important data stored inside. It was about the same size as a credit card, a little thicker, easily stored in the utility pouch on Josh’s waist. It was funny, he thought as he tucked the card away, it’s weight unnoticeable: to think that an entire person could fit on something so…insignificant. 

So breakable.

“You have her, Josh?”

Chris’ voice snapped him out of his train of thought. “Yeah, we’re good. Now I just need to get the elevator up and running.”

“Ohhhhhh, the elevator’s not working? That’s gonna make things tricky,” Chris mumbled, more to himself than his companion.

“Yeah, no power, just like the rest of Med Bay. Is there like, a back-up generator I can find?” Josh swept the helmet’s light over the surrounding area, as if an answer would present itself at his query. “If you tell me what to do, I can probably find parts for it, or you can tell me how to jump it…er, something like that.”

“Uh, come again?”

“You know what I mean, man! Don’t you do this sort of stuff in engineering?” Josh couldn’t help but suspect Chris was making fun of him. 

“Well _sure_ , I could send you to run errands. Or,” (Josh was right: he could _hear_ the smugness in Chris’ voice), “you could just use the engineering vents. Whatever you want to do.”

“Don’t be a smartass, bro. Where’s the closest access point?” With all the shit Josh had gone through, all the gore he had seen clinging to the walls of _The Grove_ , it was a relief to settle into familiar banter. He could almost pretend that the world wasn’t falling apart around him. 

“You passed by Receiving, right? That’s the one I used most often when I did repairs down there. Head back that way and the tunnel should take you straight to Staff Operations,” Chris’ reply was matter-of-fact, like it was so simple. 

“You got it, Cochise.” Josh gave a mock salute to the empty space before him, realizing only after the fact that Chris couldn’t see him. Clearing his throat, he turned on his heel to backtrack. “Won’t the whole no-power thing be a problem?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, the one here runs on Operation’s juice. Unless something catastrophic happened to the vent’s cover, you shouldn’t have any problem getting in.” 

Josh wished he could feel half as confident as Chris sounded, but that wasn’t anything new. Even when they were kids, Chris had doubled as a voice of reason, grounding Josh when he felt his most vulnerable. He couldn’t count the number of times his companion had talked him through a breakdown, sat up with him as the night stretched on into something seemingly unending. Josh had become better at coping with his demons as the two grew older, but he would always see his friend as a guardian and confidant. If anything, the perception only became stronger as Chris’ voice guided him through the dark labyrinth of _The Grove_ , closer and closer to safety. 

“Alright, man. I’ll call you when I get there.”

 

The walk back to Receiving was made in silence, both men loathe to draw attention to the last person wandering the Med Bay. The trek seemed faster though once Josh had something he could focus on. An obtainable goal. 

Upon reaching the entrance, it became clear he wasn’t the only one who had made this journey. 

The sliding door had been pried open, leaving a gap in the entry just big enough for a person to squeeze through. With no electricity supplying the entry, it had remained immobile and completely accessible. It only took a few seconds of wriggling, and Josh was in. 

“Hey Chris, I made it inside Receiving,” Josh whispered, stepping over crates of spilled medical supplies, illuminated by light from his helmet. “Do you know if Mike and Em came through here? The door was forced open.”

Static crackling signaled the comm’s reactivation. “It’s possible? They might have had the same thought and their security override codes could get them into the vents too.”

“Hey, any normal person I come across at this point is a welcome thing. If you can call those guys _normal_.”

Chris tutted, but Josh could make out suppressed laughter. “You’d better not let them catch you saying that. You find the vent yet?”

“Yeah, I see it, it’s on the far wall.” Something crunched underfoot as he stepped forward. “Chris, there’s a lot of stuff left behind, mostly med supplies. How well are you guys stocked up?”

“Uh… pretty well, I think. I haven’t checked inventory, but it couldn’t hurt to grab more?” 

Josh knelt down to gather a few of the slender canisters of medgel. He couldn’t carry much, but even a few applications of the salve could be the difference between life and death. “You should pay more attention to that stuff, bro. What happens if you run out?”

“Hey, I just handle the geeky things. I leave it to Sam to do the counting and leadership gig.”

Josh perked up. “Sam’s there too?”

“Yeah, man! Didn’t I mention that?” Chris sounded sheepish. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll see her when you get to Dispatch.”

Josh was starting to feel more and more encouraged by this plan. Sam wasn’t just a familiar face and a good friend, she _was_ a good leader. Plus, her knowledge of _The Grove’s_ operations and environment was beyond measure in a situation like this. Whatever _this_ was. 

“Sounds like a plan, Chris. Just gotta get there, nice and easy.” 

The activation panel for the access vent glowed a soft steady red—Chris was right, it still had power. Josh swiped his forearm over the glowing screen and watched it blink to life. As the lights shifted to a bright blue, the click and release of locks was the sweetest music to his ears. Josh pumped his fist in excitement.

“Fuck yeah, it’s open! I’m going in!” Josh couldn’t help but grin at Chris’ response, excited whooping filling the space inside his helmet. 

Spirits lifted, he hoisted his body up into the access tunnel. It wasn’t exactly spacious, only enough room for a person to kneel and crawl, turn around if they had too. It wasn’t made to be comfortable, just convenient enough to tweak wires without having to tear down any structural walls. It was enough to make anyone feel claustrophobic. 

But there were fond memories here.

As Josh shuffled through the tunnel on his hands and knees, the familiar sensation took him to a similar place, but a different time. 

 

_He had been crawling through the vents, already feeling antsy. He was_ supposed _to be here, how far could the passageway go?_

_Rounding a corner, he found what he was looking for. On his back, fiddling with a strand of cables dangling from the panels above him, Chris hummed along to the music coming from his headset._

_Josh’s smirk stretched across his face—his friend was totally engrossed in his work, his approach unnoticed. Josh eased himself onto his stomach and snuck as close as he possibly could without alerting the other man. He waited until Chris had replaced the cover panel… screwed it back on…_

_Then Josh struck._

_Quick as a flash, he snatched Chris’ ankles and dragged him forward with a triumphant yell as his friend bellowed in surprise. The multitool the engineer had been using slipped from his grip to bounce comically off his forehead, and land amidst a flailing limbs. It wasn’t until Chris lurched up and saw Josh’s grinning face between the space of his knees that his screams dissolved into wheezing laughter._

 

Josh grunted, pulled from his nostalgia as his elbows scraped against vent panels’ bolts. “Shit, it’s been a while since I’ve been through one of these.” Were the tunnels always this long? “I only ever came through these when I was looking for you.”

Chris snorted. “You mean all the times you jumped me and almost made me piss myself?”

“I didn’t make you do anything, man! That was all you.” Even with all his aches and pains, Josh could still chuckle, remembering the shocked expression on his friend’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Washington. You almost out of there?”

Rounding the tunnel’s bend, Josh illuminated the thin slats that made up the vent’s exit. “Just made it. Gimme a sec to get out and get my bearings.”

“Thankfully, it’s not too hard. The hall you’ll come out in leads straight into Operations—just follow the hallway out and when you get to the first junction, I’ll lead you from there.”

There it was again, that reassuring tone. Sliding out into the dimly-lit hallway, bathed in the eerie glow of emergency lights, Josh felt hope bloom in his chest. “Alright, follow the straight line. Not too hard.”

Though he was feeling more at ease than when he first woke up, Josh was still alert to his surroundings as he made his way down the passage. His footfalls echoed within the space, creating a looming impression of stretching emptiness. The lighting was better than it had been in Med Bay, but the taxed bulbs would flicker, making dark, jagged shapes dance up the walls. It grated at the edges of Josh’s stressed mind. 

Reaching the split in the hall, Josh finally recognized his surroundings. He’d walked this space many times, groggily making the trek from his bunk to a lukewarm breakfast: long after many of the other bunker occupants. 

“There’s a Storeroom dead ahead of you—it’s a little faster to cut through the Cafeteria instead of the Personnel Rooms block. Just keep heading left and it’ll take you in the right direction.” 

“Got it. Things are familiar now, I think I can make it from here.” 

Josh rounded the bend to the left, following the passage towards the mess hall. He noted a few recessed entrances along the walls: the kitchen, smaller pantries—small doorways with physical locks. He would have to get into them from the cafeteria. It would be another worth-while stop: his stomach was starting to grumble and voice its frustrations. He couldn’t think of the last time he had anything to eat. 

In his hurry to reach the end of the corridor, Josh almost missed a soft scrapping noise just beyond the corner of the hall. He slowed his pace. 

“Hold on Chris, wait a sec: I think I hear something.” Josh froze where he stood, holding his breath. It was hard to tell if the echoes in the hallway were from his own footsteps or—

“What sort of something—”

Josh cut his friend of with a hiss of breath, ears straining for the unknown sound. He was making Chris nervous, he could tell. He was nervous too. Josh waited a beat, one…two…but only silence. He released the breath he had been holding. 

“Sorry man, things are fine, I—” 

Josh’s words caught in his throat as a crash reverberated through the hallway from around the bend that lead into the cafeteria. Pulse pounding, he stumbled backwards, the need to flee thrumming through his limbs. 

“Shit, Chris, something’s _here_ ,” his words were little more than a panicked whisper. 

Chris must have recognized the distress in his friend’s words; his voice was barely audible when he spoke. “Do you _see_ It?” 

Feet shuffling backwards, Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away from the terrifying unknown before him. “No, but it’s close.”

“Josh, man, you need to get _out of there_.”

Josh could feel panic crawling along his spine—Chris’ words were fast, too fast, his blood rushing through his ears was _too loud_ —he had to get somewhere safe. He was completely exposed in the walkway, only able to move back where he came from. He could try to make it back to the vent? No, it would take too long, he didn’t have many options—

A shower of sparks from the ceiling, thrown from around the corner was his first warning that _something_ was coming. Josh bolted back toward the entrance of the hallway and slid into the recess of one of the doorways, seconds before the hall’s lights shattered and threw everything into darkness. If he was lucky, it would be enough to hide him from whatever was coming. If not…

There was no time to second-guess. It was in the hallway. 

Cowering in the shadow of the doorframe, Josh could feel the ground beneath him shaking. Or maybe it was just him? He held his arms tight against his chest: they were trembling, brimming with the animal terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf. He peered around the wall.

In brief flashes of light from above, Josh caught glimpses of a huge body: stocky, imposing. Something protruding from It’s head—Horns? Antlers?—would catch the ceiling and loose dangling wires, sending forth showers of sparks and the screeches of tearing metal. Unlike It’s smooth, skeletal head, the rest of its body was a moving mass. Thick clumps of matted hair added to the creature’s bulk, swinging with each step.

A stench followed it, a rotting, putrid shroud that turned the air heavy and suffocating. Josh could feel the thickness in his throat, like swallowing a mouthful of tepid bog water—he wanted to vomit. 

A frantic mantra rang through his head as it drew closer. _Don’t look at me, don’t look, DON’T LOOK_.

It took one final step, body framed in the center of the hall, and everything fell back into darkness. Silence settled over the space. 

No matter how hard Josh tried, he couldn’t keep his body from shaking. His heart was pounding in his chest; he wondered, could It hear how loud it was beating? Could It smell his terror, rolling off of him in waves as his body shook itself apart? Even as the silence stretched on, Josh didn’t dare move. He knew It was just standing there, hidden. 

It was waiting for him. 

It knew he was there. 

Seconds stretched into minutes and Josh’s body ached from the tension. There was a point where he almost believed It was gone, but he knew it was stupid to assume. He would have heard It move for sure. One thing was becoming clear: if he stayed any longer, It was going to kill him. 

There was a second option. Josh wasn’t that far from the split in the hall that lead to the Storeroom; he could see the soft glow of the emergency lights just beyond the corner. If he ran quick enough, he could make it to the door and lock it behind him, assuming he could outrun whatever It was. Though his body was weak, his adversary looked bulky and slow. He had the advantage of surprise. 

Quietly and carefully as he could, Josh shifted his limbs into a poor imitation of a runner’s sprint. Everything in him screamed this was a bad idea, but what else could he do? With grim resolution, he started his countdown. 

_One_ … (His heart felt like it was going to burst, sweat streamed in rivulets down his face) 

_Two_ … (The ceiling groaned, something was close, _he didn’t want to die_ )

…

_THREE!_

Josh was off like a shot the second the word flittered across his mind. Boots slapping against the dense floor, arms pumping, he hurled himself around the bend of the hallway as he heard the shrill scream of something unearthly behind him. No time to look, he threw himself against the door, lungs burning. He swung his arm wildly over the door sensor, tumbling into the room when the door slid out from under him. Scrambling to his feet, he threw his hands against the electronic lock as the portal to the room slid closed again, sobbing—

\- it clicked. He was locked in. 

Josh remained motionless, listening for any sounds outside. 

Nothing. 

Breath hitching, body wracked with tremors, Josh crawled away from the door and further into the Storeroom, coming to rest against shelves of bedding. He sat unmoving for what felt like hours. Only when he was convinced that nothing was coming in after him, Josh let out the shaking breath he had been holding. He yanked off his helmet, cradling it in his lap. It wasn’t until the cool air hit his face that he realized he was crying, fat tears running freely down his cheeks. 

Worn out, terrified, and relieved beyond words, Josh gave in to the warring emotions in his chest and started to bawl, alone and small in the isolated room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Life is becoming hectic in all the good ways, so maybe updates won't be that regular at all, whoops. Bless all y'all who are sticking with this story)


	4. Alone

It felt like hours before Josh moved again. 

His eyes were gummy and uncomfortable—he raised his hand to scrub tiredly at his face, jumping when the action upset the helmet from his lap. It clattered loudly against the floor tiles, coming to rest against the heel of Josh’s boot. The burst of adrenaline had long since worn off, leaving him with a splitting headache and a soft buzzing in his brain. 

…Or maybe it wasn’t in his mind? Head lolling, Josh pawed at his helmet, lifting it closer to his ear. 

The white noise became clearer, shifted from something unintelligible into actual words. Chris’ voice was so soft he could have easily missed it, had the Storeroom not been silent as a tomb. 

“—Josh, _please_ , oh god, say _something_ , anything, oh _god_ —”

He sounded panicked, his words running together in a jumbled mess of sound. Grim feelings finally dissipating, Josh slid the helmet back on and winced at the status lights flashing across his visor. “Shit, Chris, I’m fine man, just pulling myself together.” 

“ _JOSH?_ Oh fuck, oh holy shit bro, I _thought you were dead_ ,” he sobbed in relief, voice leaping in volume. His voice was hoarse; had he been crying? Screaming? Josh couldn’t tell. 

“Not just yet. That thing was nastier than last time, damn…” Josh took note of a ping notification in the corner of the visor screen: bruising and muscle fatigue detected. That explained the throbbing in his shins. “At least it’s slow.”

“Small miracles, right?” Chris joked weakly. 

“Tell me about it,” Josh grumbled, easing himself up off the ground. He was worn-down, splitting headache threatening to crack his skull in two, but still able to push on. He was alive. “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking I should take the long way around.”

“You read my mind, bro. You can cut through the personnel rooms; it’ll get you here just as easily. Easier, in fact,” Chris added, finding his humor again, “since there won’t be a giant monster trying to eat you.”  
Josh didn’t miss the forced laughter, Chris’ way of easing a bleak situation. He was familiar with that tone and how hard his friend was trying to suppress his trembling voice—if he was being honest, there were instances when he was frustrated that his closest friend put on a brave face, felt the need to be the stronger of the two of them. But times like these, times when Josh felt like he was being crushed by the weight of his anxiety, words couldn’t express his gratitude that his friend went to such lengths for him. 

Josh laughed dryly, still not fully settled from the encounter, but doing what he could to put his friend at ease. He picked his way through the shelves to the far end of the room. While it was inconvenient to take the less direct route, it was better than the alternative; he could follow the path all the way into the sleeping quarters, and meet up with Security Dispatch in the rear of that block. 

Whether he was ready or not, it was time to move on. 

 

The hall that lead through the bunks was narrow, individual doors spaced evenly along its sides. Someone once told Josh it was to discourage people from congregating there, to keep the staff moving to their work stations. Now, it felt as if he was being strung along, guided forward and lured by an unseen force.

It certainly wasn’t the best situation to be caught unaware in: tight quarters with few escape routes could be a death sentence if he didn’t pay mind to his surroundings. And yet, the lack of wiggle room could be Josh’s saving grace, acting as deterrent to his bulky aggressor. If he was lucky, he wouldn’t have to find out at all. 

It was strange for him to walk through the space, isolated. Usually there was a quiet clamor that hung around this place, born from the presence of people: of his coworkers and friends. Now, like the rest of _The Grove_ , it had fallen silent and become a bleak memorial for those who were left. Josh took note of the name plates by the doors as he pushed forward. Some were more familiar than others, sorted into neat sections by their staffing placement. Smaller, branching halls lead to other room sections, all aligned in rows. 

Josh felt his body fall into old patterns he had formed from months of routine, footfalls tracing the path that lead him to his home away from home. It was a smart design, planning for the security personnel bunks to be at the end of the block, so close to Dispatch: on-call and ready to respond in a moment’s notice. Not that he minded—Josh always found himself up at odd hours, naturally inclined to work long into the night. That, in combination with the prescription regiment he started when he was accepted into _The Grove_ —

Josh felt his stomach drop, as if it had been yanked through the floor: _his meds_.

What the _hell_ , how did he forget? He had been doing so well for himself, had kept up with refills, with his schedule, _how did he forget_. Skin crawling, Josh opened the comm channel.

“Chris, holy shit man, I fucked up, I _so fucked up_ —”

“Josh?? Are you okay, did that thing—?”

“No, Chris, my meds, I _forgot_. I don’t know how; I can’t remember the last time I took them—”

“Josh, deep breaths, man. We can grab them, your room’s on the way to Security Dispatch.”

“ _No_ , we can’t,” irritation flared hot in Josh’s gut, words hissing. “I don’t have my ID badge, I lost it when that monster took a chunk out of me.”

“But your suit—”

“The suit’s codes don’t open private quarters, Chris, _you know that_ ,” Josh spit, his frustration with himself becoming something venomous. 

Chris breezed over Josh’s outburst—collected, composed. “I’m trying to help you, Josh. We’ll figure this out together, but bro, you gotta _let_ me help you. We’ll get your meds, I promise you.”

Josh wanted to grind his teeth, he wanted to scream at Chris, tell him what an idiot he was, _he had no idea_ …

…But he was right. Josh was angry and scared and it was so much easier to take it out on the voice of his companion, a disembodied figure who seemed so removed from his struggles. A friend who had spent all this time guiding him all this way, urging him to safety. 

Deflating, Josh swallowed down the aggravation that threatened to spill into his words. He felt so exposed, so _stupid_. He should have realized, should have known. His fatigue, the nausea… his body had been dragged along on an emotional roller coaster ever since he woke up. Seeing it all in hindsight, he should have realized sooner… 

But none of that was Chris’ fault. 

“…You’re right. I… dammit...” Fists clenching, relaxing, repeating, Josh forced himself to breathe. “Okay. _Okay_.”

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Chris’s voice was steady, a harbor against the brewing storm of Josh’s thoughts. “I know you’ve been through a lot, I _know_. It’s been one shitstorm after another but you’ll be with friends soon. Trust me on this.”

“Yeah… okay. I trust you,” Josh trailed off, drained from the brief but intense stirrings of conflict. “I trust you.” 

"Good. _Good_. Now, I think I have a plan that might work: you’ve got Ashley’s badge, right? If you can get into her bunk, she should still have an extra key to my room. You usually keep all sorts of crap at my place—I’m pretty sure you left a back-up case there too.”

It was a solid idea, something Josh was capable of. Placated for the time being, he started to rummage through his utility pouch, being careful not to jostle Jess with his shaking fingers. An errant thought tickled the perimeter of his mind. 

“Wait a sec, why does _Ashley_ have a key to your room?”

“Come on, man, I don’t wanna talk about that right now,” Chris sounded uncomfortable, his calm demeanor starting to show cracks. “We’re just friends—”

“Sam and Mike are your friends; you give them a key to your room too?”

“Josh, _seriously_ , we… she was my friend. It wasn’t like that.” A deep sigh. “And now it never will be.”

Guilt spread through Josh’s body like a wildfire: open mouth, insert foot. Didn’t he just calm himself down? Yet another side effect of withdrawal: aggression lingered around him in a haze, fraying his worn patience. The emotions that had sprung up in his own mind had overshadowed and blinded him to the ones that now colored Chris’ small, sad voice. 

“Shit, man, I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” He could see Ashley’s body all over again, limbs twisted in awkward angles. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.” Defeat was evident in Chris’ voice—Josh made a mental note to not bring up he and Ashley’s… _thing_ again; it wasn’t good for either of them. He needed to focus on the task at hand. He needed to get to that room. 

 

Josh wove his way through the halls, noting the gradual change of color in the name plates: the stark white of Building Operations, the vibrant yellow of Engineering, the soft pink of Medical Staff. Josh only had to pass a few doors before he found himself in front of the entrance to Ashley’s quarters; with a quick tap of her badge against the lock, Josh was inside. 

He had never personally been to her room, but it looked exactly how he would imagine it. Her shelves— old, rickety things that could be found in every living quarter— were overflowing with books; the titles revealed a hodge-podge of interests and text references for psychology. Her desk housed an impressive collection of knick-knacks, everything placed precisely and with purpose around her computer and work space. A soft, knit blanket had been pulled over the top sheets of her bed, all warm hues and comfort. Josh could see her curling up under it, reading late into the night. Could imagine Chris sitting on the bed next to her, the two of them laughing, leaning so close—

NO. Not the time to think about that. In fact, Josh thought as he swallowed his pettiness, there would _never_ be a good time to think about that. Like it mattered any more anyways…

Prickling irritation and shame blossomed under his skin; Josh interrupted his thoughts with the distraction of Chris’ attention. “I’m in Ashley’s room. If she had a copy of your ID, where would she keep it?”

“Check the drawer right under her computer, that’s where she put important stuff.”

Not wanting to spend more time there than he had to, Josh followed Chris’ suggestion, exposing the assorted contents. Even the drawer was kept neat, a small tin of cards and flash drives wedged in the space between two stacks of folders. Josh started flipping through, trying to find something obvious. 

“Hey, um, while you’re in there, can you do me a favor?” Chris sounded hopeful, another unasked question behind his words. 

Josh gave a soft hum of acknowledgment, focused on rifling through the tin’s contents. 

“Could you check the drawer for a flashdrive I gave to Ash? It’s small, s’got my name on it, easy to find, I just… there’s something… I just want to have something to remember her by…” His words grew softer and eventually fell silent. 

“No worries, man, I’ve got you.” The soft clack of shuffling cards fell silent when Josh found a white key card labeled as _“Chris’ Room!”_ in a loopy scrawl. It only took a little more shuffling to produce a small thumb drive with the same handwriting— _“From Chris,”_ and on the other side: _“To Ashtag!”_

Josh slipped both items into his pouch and returned to the hallway, itching to leave. “Alright, heading to your place.” 

Chris made a noise acknowledging he had heard, but didn’t contribute any other thoughts. It surprised Josh—he could usually count on his friend to fill silences and lift the mood. To be on the receiving end of the silent treatment, whether it was intentional or not, caught him off guard. 

Thankfully, the distance between the two rooms was short. Josh could feel his nerves buzzing and his body clamoring for respite and nourishment. Coupled with Chris’ sudden lack of enthusiasm, he was becoming uncomfortably aware that he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. 

_Just a little more._

_Almost there._

 

Finding the familiar yellow name plate in a line of many had Josh rummaging through the pouch at his waist yet again. A swipe of the plain key card yielded the desired result and the path before him opened. One step into Chris’ room and Josh was overcome with memories, waves of nostalgia crashing over him. 

 

_Chris tinkered with something at his desk, clicks and clacks alluding to his progress. Josh lay sprawled out on the bed, the soft ambiance pulling him in and out of sleep…_

_Knocking on Chris’ door when the silence of his own room became suffocating, the twins working too late in their respective labs to be of any comfort…_

_His best friend laughing uncontrollably, sagging against him with a beer in hand, saved from his last leave, as the night’s hours flew by…_

 

By immediate contrast to Ashley’s room, Chris lived in a state of controlled chaos: stacks of wrinkled papers, a project haloed by tiny tools sat half-finished on his workbench. There were folds of clothes shoved under the bed as an afterthought, a mess Josh knew he should take partial credit for. Chris was right, he did leave a lot of stuff around. He couldn’t help it—this was a safe place, his friend’s good nature mirrored in every picture tacked to the wall, in every meticulous pile of organized junk. 

“Check the bathroom. Unless you moved it the last time you visited, your pill case should be by the sink.”

Josh mumbled an affirmative, mood settling into dull compliance as he moved past Chris’ workbench and into the washroom. It took some minimal reorganizing of the counter, but sure enough, he was able to unearth the object of his fixation from behind some of his friend’s more garish jars of styling wax.

The case was small, its colors muted in comparison to Chris’ belongings. Plucking it off the counter, his fingers found the familiar groove under the cap lip, lifting—he stilled his actions, hesitating. 

Josh felt like shit. 

His stomach was churning, limbs screaming their protest; his mind was on over-drive, bouncing between obsessive focus and taxed exhaustion. The pills would help with all this, even out the wash of emotions into something he could handle. 

But not before making it worse. 

He could remember dry heaving over and over again, until he sobbed—kept up in the early hours of the morning with no relief for his churning stomach. Days passed in a dream-like haze: his friends, his thoughts flat and shapeless. 

The sooner he took a dose, the better off he’d be. He _knew_ this. 

But not now. Not here.

He couldn’t afford the distraction while he was so on edge, where one moment of idleness could cost him his life. He’d take it when he joined up with Chris and Sam, with the others. At least he’d have people to keep an eye on him, and if it came down to it, he’d have the luxury of curling up and riding out any misery that befell him. 

Besides, he reasoned, adding the pill case to the growing collection in his utility pouch; they were supposed to be taken with food and he was _long_ overdue for a meal. 

 

Leaving behind the silence of the empty bunks, Josh pressed on. His companion remained oddly quiet, the lack of his usual chatter making the empty passage seem that much more ominous. It made Josh antsy: was Chris still mad about what he had said about Ashley? He was usually so understanding and sympathetic to Josh’s moods, almost to a fault. It was unlike him to hold onto bad feelings and it sent Josh into a new wash of annoyance. Chris knew how Josh could get some times, why was he letting it get to him now? 

_Breathe. Calm._

This wasn’t the time to get worked up. He was almost to safety, close to friends. Josh decided it was his turn to be the bigger man, extend the metaphorical olive branch. He cleared his throat, catching Chris’ attention. 

“Hey, I’m almost to Dispatch. It’s gonna be really good to see you, man.”

Chris made a surprised noise, a tell-tale sign of someone caught in the middle of their deep thoughts. “Oh? Oh, yeah! I’m so glad you made it this far—honestly, when you were put in emergency care in Medical, we didn’t know if you would ever wake up again. I guess we’ve really got to roll out the red carpet on this one.”

There it was again: Chris’ words were humorous, but strained. Something was clearly amiss. Still, it was step towards forgiveness, Josh figured. Even if Chris was annoyed with him now, he was starting to chat again, fall back into old patterns. There was only so long either of them could stay mad at each other. It was for the best they started resolving hurt feelings now; Josh had cleared the bunks and reentered the main hallway, facing the imposing metal doors emblazoned with security decals. 

Despite the tension lingering between the two of them, Josh was the happiest he had been since waking up. 

He wasn’t going to be alone any more. 

 

Josh’s suit codes made getting inside the security hub easy, his arrival revealing something strangely out of sorts—whereas everything else in _The Grove_ had been trashed, violated, Dispatch was untouched: everything left exactly as Josh remembered it. The massive screens spanning the entire length of the room’s walls were alive with images and graphs, tracking activity within the facility. Updates from different sectors appeared as blips on the vast, projected blueprints, alarms triggered and unanswered dotting the image. The projected screens of light originated from a holo strip running around the base of the computer’s monitors, humming with power. 

In the middle of it all, watching the ebb and flow of lines of data…it was _her_. She sat cross-legged on the holo strip, glancing between charts and graphs as they appeared and dismissing them just as quickly. It took her a moment to notice she was no longer alone; she turned to peek curiously over her shoulder, her expression brightening into something joyful at the sight of the lone security guard in the butterfly helmet. 

She looked otherworldly, like a vision of contentment, of peace. Her body was a concentration of soft white light, uniform shimmering when she stood up to greet him. Typical to her nature, she was barefoot; every motion, every step forward was controlled and graceful. Sam looked him over and smiled brightly. 

“You made it. I knew you would.”

Flabbergasted, Josh removed his helmet, unable to take his eyes off her, “Sammy…?”

She was no taller than Jess had been on her patient console, a tiny fraction of the woman she once was. It was deeply upsetting and oh so different from the encounter in Med Bay. He had witnessed Jess’ progression from death to electronic rebirth; there were steps, enough time to cope and adjust (and, honestly, they hadn’t been close to begin with). 

But Sam…

Sam who would fearlessly hunt for frogs alongside him when the twins refused. Sam, his baby sister’s best friend and confidant…

Seeing Sam like this, there was no process, no logical story. She had been alive last he saw her and now, she wasn’t. 

To her credit, she was patient, giving Josh time to sort through his shock. 

“You weren’t expecting this, huh?”

Josh swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. “No, I…Sam, what happened?”

She turned back to the screens, tracking the site of a new alarm. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What? Of course it does, Sam! You _died_ —”

“I did. But telling you about it now’s not going to change anything, Josh. Right now, we have bigger things to worry about.” Sam gestured fluidly with her hands, drawing the projected facility maps towards her. “Did you bring Chris with you?”

Josh’s mind stuttered to a halt, unable to comprehend the meaning of her words. “Bring… what does that mean?”

Sam paused in her movements, turning to look at Josh again. “Chris was going to stay with you, keep an eye out. Did you bring him?” 

Josh’s mouth went dry, voice cracking. “He said he was here, with you.” 

Sam’s face fell, mouth drawn tight. As she turned to face Josh, she made a gentle sweep with her wrist and a panel slid open in front of her; tucked inside were a few small lengths of cable that fed into the dark metal housing of the computer. “Plug your helmet into the console, Josh.”

“I don’t understa—”

“Your helmet, Josh. _Plug it in._ ”

Her stern tone spurred him into action, hands fumbling to bring the wires and the back of headwear together. He set it down and returned his attention to Sam as frantic questions grew in his mind. Before he got a chance to open his mouth, a soft chime signaled synchronization. The strip beneath Sam lit up.

A soft bloom of color sparked next to her.

And suddenly Josh understood. 

Soft streaks of light flared up and took shape: cover-alls, with sleeves tied carelessly around the waist, a loosely hanging utility belt. Bright eyes behind thick glasses sat under worried brow and completed a familiar and intensely guilty face. 

_No._

Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away from the vivid yellow glow of the A.I. next to Sam, he could feel his jaw drop. This had to be a cruel joke.

Chris’ eyes met Josh’s own and he tried a weak smile. He held up his hands in a gesture somewhere between surrender and jubilation.

“…Surprise?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter's tone took a complete 360 from when I first started writing it and it turned into a 3500+ monster. As always, thanks to those of you who are sticking around! If you ever want to cry about Until Dawn with someone, come find me at dolphinsjukebox on the Tumblr machine.)


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